Stalker
by The-Bubbling-Pipe
Summary: Pip felt like someone was watching him. Pip always felt like someone was watching him. One-sided Chip. Dip.


**Disclaimer:**** I do not own South Park.**

**Happy very very late Valentines! **

**This is kind of a Valentines fic but not really.**

**Enjoy!**

Pip felt like someone was watching him. Pip _always_ felt like someone was watching him. When he walked to and from school. When he would do his shopping. Even when he was in the confines of his own home when the curtains were tightly drawn. There was always the sensation of eyes upon him, causing his hair to stand on end and eyes dart around the room.

He tried to tell his best friend, Damien. At first, the demonic teen told Pip he was being paranoid. But he began to grow worried when dark circles haunted the Brits face, and when gradually his bones became more and more prominent while his clothes became less and less fitted.

And so Damien agreed to tail Pip for a few days. At the very least it would give him the comfort of knowing Damien was there. If anyone or anything was watching the blonde Damien's demonic abilities would pick up on them and, consequently, he would proceed to tear them to shreds for causing his angel distress.

But no person was found to be watching Pip. Yet the paranoia remained and both the noirette and blonde became concerned at the behaviour. Comparisons were drawn between Pip and the other blonde, Tweek Tweak. And everyone knew what had happened when the twitching boy's paranoia had become too much.

Alas, there was nothing either teen could do. Pip continued to worry through his days and nights and Damien provided comfort wherever possible.

Until one day Damien did not show up to walk Pip to school. Nor was he at any of his classes or his home after school. This did nothing to help Pip's paranoia. And so Pip walked back to his house to wait in the kitchen, drinking tea, beside the phone.

Surely Damien would ring. He would say that his father had needed his help urgently down in hell. Yeah that was it. He had some political duties to attend to. And he would ring Pip at the first possible opportunity. And Pip would be right beside the phone to answer.

The British teen became more and more tired with the more tea he drank, despite the fact that it was not the correct variety of tea for this reaction to occur, and before he knew it his head was drooped upon the table and he was far away in the blackness of a dreamless sleep.

_(Later...)_

Pip awoke to a place that was not very much like his kitchen. Cold stone pressed at his back and straps held down his limbs, restricting movement. The cold breeze grazing over his stomach alerted him to the fact that he was bare-chested. He looked around as much as his constraints would allow him and it was revealed that he was in some form of concrete bunker and he lay upon a table at the centre.

From the shadows came a deep chuckle, filled with the sadistic amusement of Pip's situation. And from this same shadow came a man. He was tall and well built, seemingly from some form of physical work. Scars lttered his arms and face, some obviously old, some quite fresh. Dirt brown hair was tousled on his head and brown eyes, so dark, showed the same expression as his chuckle with a glint of something Pip would describe as insanity.

He came closer to Pip and tilted his chin up with the blade of a shovel which had supposedly came from behind him.

" 'Ello Pip" That's when Pip realised this was not a man but rather the 16 year old Christophe DeLorne, who's appearance and expression gave the impression of someone far beyond his years. And his body was in fact toned from a form of physical work- The work of murder. It was a this moment that Pip became more than a little nervous.

"I 'ave been watching 'oo for a while now" The look upon his face told Pip he was quite proud of this feat.

"Your petit form, your soft blonde 'air, your bright blue eyes. I knew I must 'ave eet all"

So Pip's paranoia proved to not be so ridiculous after all. Not that this would help him in his present situation.

"But zat stoopied demon boy got in ze way. Too bad nut even 'e can detect ze great Mole, eh?" the shovel was pressed further into Pip's throat, causing the skin to split and a scarlet drop to roll away from the wound. Christophe collected this and looked thoughtfully at the bead upon his finger before continuing.

"Do 'oo know what today ees Pip?" Pip shook his head. He had no idea how long he'd been out. Christophe licked the blood off his finger before speaking again.

"February 14th. Valentines day. And do 'oo know what ze demon boy was planning? 'e was going to give 'oo a red rose and paper 'eart to tell 'oo 'ow 'e feels" Pip's heart soared. He'd always harboured feelings for the anti-christ and even in this situation he was ecstatic.

"But why 'ave a paper 'eart when 'oo can 'ave ze real zing" And from behind his back, Christophe proceeded to pull out a black heart oozing red liquid. This heart, Damien's heart, was crushed right in front of Pip's face.

Large tears, like shining diamonds, fells from Pip's eyes, leaving trails on his paling skin.

"Ah do nut fret leetle one. Zis is why I drugged your water and brought 'oo 'ere. So zat 'oo may give me your 'eart and prove zat 'e means nozing to 'oo. And zen we will be togezer forever."

The last thing Pip Pirrup ever felt was a knife being plunged in his chest and the last thing his icy blues ever gazed upon was the crushed heart of his beloved in the fist of a deranged Frenchman.

_(Epilogue)_

The police found Christophe DeLorne with a bullet through his skull and two hearts in either fist. The red one sitting over where his own stopped heart exist belonged to the deceased Phillip Pirrup, who lay upon the table at the room's centre. The other heart, black and crushed, belonged to Damien Thorne, whose body has never been found. Some say 'Ze Mole' used his infamous digging abilities to bury the body in some remote location. Others say that because a dagger of Megiddo was not used, he is still wandering upon this plane, a gaping hole in his chest that could not be filled by any heart, but only by a blonde angel who was now locked away in the confines of heaven.

**This was meant to be just Chip but somehow Damien worked his way in there.**

**Please read and review. Thank-you!**


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